


waiting for the light to change (can i have a moment of your time?)

by midheaven



Category: IZONE (Band)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:28:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28480911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midheaven/pseuds/midheaven
Summary: Chaewon’s left brow raises. “Your name is Minju?”Minju just—tilts her head. Nods. “Uh. Yeah.”“Hanja?”“Uh.” Minju rolls up her sleeve and writes the strokes in air. “Jade—‘veins in jade’. And then ‘thorough’.”The five times Minju stops herself from kissing Chaewon, and the one time she doesn’t.
Relationships: Kim Chaewon (IZONE)/Kim Minju
Comments: 18
Kudos: 176





	waiting for the light to change (can i have a moment of your time?)

**Author's Note:**

> happy new year everyone! here’s a 2kim thing i did :D and yes, i have written an unhealthy number of soulmate aus, lol
> 
> warnings for mentions of (non-sexual) predation of minors. feel free to skip the section that begins with _They manage to salvage it._
> 
> title from nogizaka46’s synchronicity.

  
  
  
  
  


꽃촛불 켜는 밤, 깊은 골방에 만나라.  
아직 젊어 모를 몸, 그래도 그들은  
'해 달같이 밝은 맘, 저저마다 있노라'  
그러나 사랑은, 한두 번만 아니라, 그들은 모르고. 

  
  


_Night. Lighting the flower lamp, might meet in the deep back room.  
Still too young to know, all they think,  
‘Mind’s bright as the sun and the moon, up to anything.’  
But no, love is not just once or twice, though they do not know it yet._

  
  


김소월

  
  
  
  
  
  


**00.**

Statistically, it shouldn’t have happened. 

A tenth of soulmate pairs meet in childhood. Before eleven. The rest tend to meet way after that—in adulthood, at least. Because in the years between that—it’s too messy. Middle and high school. Barely anyone that age wants something that’s good for them. Wants the kind of person they can spend their rest of their life with. Don’t know themselves enough to know. Haven’t developed good enough judgments of character to know. 

But Kim Minju meets Kim Chaewon when she’s in her second year and just fucks everything up. 

Choi Yena, all smiles, does it. Introduces Minju to Chaewon one lunch, because Minju and Yena are both in dance club and Minju had approached Yena with a question. 

Yena, hanging out with her lab partner, says, “Ah—Minju-yah, this is Chaewon. Have you two met?”

Chaewon’s left brow raises. “Your name is Minju?”

Minju just—tilts her head. Nods. “Uh. Yeah.”

“Hanja?”

“Uh.” Minju rolls up her sleeve and writes the strokes in air. “Jade—‘veins in jade’. And then ‘thorough’.”

Chaewon’s face goes stony, but then—

Minju finally, _finally_ pieces it together. Her hand drops to her side. Too absentminded and clouded by her lack of sleep and the stress of midterms looming around the corner, because Yena’s friend’s name is _Chaewon_ —

Chaewon had asked for her _hanja. Chaewon._

Minju bites her lip before asking, “Yours are—”

“‘To choose’ and then ‘headwaters’, yeah,” Chaewon cuts her off. She looks—looks _mad_ for some reason, all the while Minju is standing in disbelief and joy. 

Minju shifts on her feet and Chaewon shifts in her seat, and from where Minju is she can see the last character in her name peek through the collar of Chaewon’s shirt. 

Chaewon rubs her hands on her face. “Yena, would you—give us a minute, we’ll just—”

Yena, completely understanding but visibly confused, just nods. 

  
  
  
  


“Hi,” Minju says, all too dumbly. 

“Look.” Chaewon’s lips thin. She spares another glance at the classroom door. Drags Minju further inside. She’d been silent the entire time she’d pulled Minju from the cafeteria to here, but now: “I can’t—I’m not ready for this.”

The air leaves Minju’s lungs in a quiet, “Oh.”

“I think—I don’t think you’re a bad person, or anything, but I just _don’t_ —” Chaewon’s breath catches, and then she scoffs and shakes her head. 

There’s a silence, where Chaewon seems to be thinking of what to say next, but then her expression softens and she steps toward Minju and tells her—

“We can be friends.”

Minju blinks and she takes a second, but she understands it. Her head unspools it, like a tangle of thread. 

She’s heard of people like Chaewon. Jaded or traumatised by soulmate relationships that go awry for one reason or another. Or just unwilling to subject themselves to a system they didn’t sign up for. Some just can’t bear the thought of being with one other person _forever_ —be it because that’s too few or too many. 

Minju purses her lips. Rubs on Chaewon’s name, inked on her wrist. “Friends, then.”

  
  
  
  


**01.**

They get voted as prom queens. 

They didn’t really campaign—but then again, no one did. Who else is suffice competition for the lone soulmate pair that formed in the school?

Their plans of being _friends_ goes okay enough. Chaewon, being unbearably _Chaewon_ , schedules Thursday afternoons for them to have lunch together so they can get to know each other. The first few weeks consisted of Chaewon grabbing questionnaires from the internet and throwing them indiscriminately at Minju. 

Again. Unbearably Chaewon. 

(Though Minju doesn’t know what to make of the fact that she can call things _Chaewon-like_ , now.)

Chaewon has big dreams but her feet firmly planted on the ground. She cries in every drama she watches. Mint chocolate ice cream is a hill she’s willing to die on. She dropped honorifics with Minju very early—but Minju doesn’t know whether that’s out of a want to be more familiar, distaste, a feeling of obligation to their bond, or something else entirely. 

Chaewon’s hair glows golden when the noon sun hits it right. Her voice gets sweet when she speaks softly. Her blinks get slow when she finishes her food. Minju likes chasing the quick upturn of her lip when she jokes, or says something surprising. 

Discard Minju’s earlier statement. 

Their plans of being _friends_ goes disastrously. At least for Minju. 

She supposes it was supposed to happen. But Chaewon is just—she’s really pretty, kind of funny but she doesn’t even know it, has a work ethic Minju can only dream of, has the airiest, loveliest laugh, and she just—

“Kim Minju-ssi.”

Chaewon’s voice snaps her to attention. 

They’re slow dancing and it’s awful. Chaewon is a fantastic dancer, and she’s almost _too_ gorgeous tonight, in a blush dress and her hair done up, but the proximity is almost growing too much for Minju to bear. 

She feels everyone’s eyes on them. Has always felt it. Those Thursday lunches, the whispers that would always trail them. People Minju’s never spoken to sidling up to her and asking _What’s it like?_ Her teachers looking at her differently. The way her friends would hang out but tell Minju that it’s okay if she goes with Chaewon instead. 

Chaewon’s brows furrow, and Minju wonders just how much soulmates are attuned to each other when Chaewon says, “It’s just me, Minju.”

Minju nods, swallows the lump in her throat. Continues holding and guiding Chaewon, making sure their feet don’t bump. 

But Chaewon’s eyes _burn_. “It’s just you and me.”

And maybe everything Chaewon says comes true, because Minju’s world shrinks, in that moment. Just the two of them. Her name on Chaewon’s collarbone and Chaewon’s name on Minju’s wrist. Outside their dancefloor is dark, it’s just the music and their footsteps and their shallow breaths. No voices, no burning gazes. 

The thought occurs to Minju like a bolt of lightning. Bright and fast and painful:

She wants to kiss Chaewon. 

They’re close enough to do so. All Minju has to do is take Chaewon’s face in hers and lean closer. Mess up her carefully applied lipstick. 

But the music stops, the lights go back up, and then there’s a loud voice over the speakers saying, “ _And those were our prom queens! Thank you very much!_ ”

And then Chaewon turns and bows, her smile wide in her face, but—

But if you ask Minju, it’s totally different from the smiles she gives her. 

  
  
  
  
  


**02.**

It’s to be expected, but Minju falls in love with Chaewon.

_Probably would have still felt like this if we weren’t bonded_ , Minju thinks to herself, looking at the picture Chaewon just posted on Instagram. Which is painfully cliché, and is the exact kind of statement that would make Chaewon laugh and then gag in her face. 

Despite that, they move in together. 

They’re both in university now, different ones, but in Incheon all the same. Prices in Yeonsu-gu are _extortionate_ , so Chaewon was inclined to look for a roommate. And like all spaces that can accommodate two people, soulmates get special prices. 

“Just a little under two hundred fifty thousand a month, Minju-yah,” Chaewon had said. 

Which, for this area, is a _steal_ —Minju probably wouldn’t have found a better deal for herself, so she said yes. 

All they had to do was present their Certificate of Nexus and their soulmarks, and the landlord was all too happy to let them in. 

(Minju remembers that horrid day of them applying to get the certificate, over a year ago now. In the City Hall, Chaewon’s exaggerated exhales and Minju’s antsy feet.)

Filling the space goes smoothly enough. Maybe it’s their bond, but their tastes match—not too many arguments on desk placement and sofa colour and television model. 

It goes smoothly enough, until two nights before their Chaewon’s semester starts—

“My mattress won’t arrive until tomorrow.”

Chaewon barges into Minju’s room, exhausted and leaning against the door. Rubs her hands on her face again, like she always does when she’s frustrated. 

“What happened?” Minju asks, sitting up, locking her phone. 

“It got held up in delivery. I—” Chaewon laughs, mirthless. “I’m just so tired, Minju-yah.”

Chaewon’s been balancing the transfer of her bank account from her parents’ names to hers, the moving in, sorting out her scholarship, signing up for her classes, all over the general growing pains of independent living. She’s been on a knife’s edge this whole time, and Minju’s been wary of her toppling over at any moment. 

She frowns at Chaewon’s hollowed cheeks and the dark under her eyes. Pats the bed beside her. “Sleep here,” Minju tells her, shrugging. “It’s comfy enough.”

Chaewon’s eyebrows raise. “Promise?”

Minju smiles. “If it’s okay with you.”

Chaewon practically drags her feet to flop onto Minju’s bed, face first. Minju collects her eyeglasses and charger from the bedside table and moves to get up. 

“Where’re you going?” Chaewon asks, muffled. 

“Couch,” Minju replies. 

“We haven’t swept the dust in the living room.” Chaewon lifts her head to look at Minju, her eyes narrowing. “You’ll have a sneezing fit before you can even hope to fall asleep.”

Sometimes Minju forgets—that Chaewon watches her as earnestly as Minju does Chaewon. That Chaewon hates the idea of soulmates, but not the idea of Minju. That Chaewon took time to remember all of Minju’s answers to every questionnaire she’d thrown at her. 

Minju’s too used to dancing around Chaewon, like there’s broken glass around her. Too used to feeling like she’s overstepped a boundary. 

“Come on,” Chaewon urges through a yawn. “‘S alright. I promise.”

But maybe this will help. _Immersion therapy_ , Minju tells herself. Maybe if she spends enough time close to Chaewon she’ll stop bursting into flames when she’s in a single meter radius. 

Minju settles into bed, pulling her duvet over her, but the moment she decides to lay on her side, Chaewon turns, too, so they’re now facing each other. 

Chaewon is _close_ —too close tooclose _tooclose_ —and Minju can feel the heat off her skin, her soft exhales. Can see the light reflecting in her eyes, glimmering, the strand of hair falling into her face. Can see her name across Chaewon’s left collarbone, a cruel and gentle reminder. 

She looks so _tired_ , and Minju wants to soothe her, brush her hair from her forehead and tell her everything will be alright. Her chest squeezes and she really, _really_ wants to kiss Chaewon—a small tilt from Minju’s head would be all it would take to close the distance. 

But then Chaewon closes her eyes, easing into sleep, and Minju finally realises how creepy the entire encounter was—how she must have stared at Chaewon’s lips with hunger, totally unwelcome. 

Minju goes to sleep with her lip between her teeth. 

  
  
  
  


**03.**

There’s really just one habit of Chaewon’s that Minju can’t stand. 

She is _literally_ quite unable to take care of herself properly. 

They’re in their second semester of their second year, and things are starting to get heavy. Minju can’t count the number of times Chaewon still wasn’t home by eleven, Minju texting to ask only to find out Chaewon had lost track of time in the library. 

Or to hear Chaewon’s stomach growling on Saturday midmornings, because she’d barely eaten the day before. Minju had resorted to texting her at intervals, reminding her to have something. 

Minju would wake up at dawn, sometimes, startled by a loud sigh or a plate clanking, to find Chaewon nearing her thirtieth hour with no sleep. It takes some prying from Minju, but eventually Chaewon relents, letting Minju close her laptop and guide her to bed. She falls asleep within seconds. 

But still, she doesn’t see this coming. 

Her phone has been buzzing incessantly throughout her lecture. Minju flips it over and turns on Do Not Disturb, but her palms still itch. She’s never been good with—things, when she starts getting too panicky, but she can’t afford to miss the discussion. 

Time slows to a crawl. When she checks how many minutes are left for the class on her phone, she sees that the number has called four more times. 

That’s it. 

“Hi—I’m sorry, it looks like I have an emergency. Do you think I could ask you for notes?”

Her classmate regards her with slight surprise. They’ve never really spoken, but Minju can imagine how she looks, all too frazzled. 

“Yeah—yeah, sure, I’m recording this, too. I’ll send it over.”

Minju sighs. “Thanks so much,” she says, and grabs her things and heads for the door. 

She switches her phone to accept notifications again and waits, her foot tapping loud on the tiled floor. When her phone buzzes, Minju doesn’t even take a second to answer. 

“Hello?”

“Kim Minju-nim? This is Nasaret International…”

Minju doesn’t hear the rest of it, because she already knows. Her bond, whispering to her, squeezing the air in her lungs. Finally pieces together how Chaewon looked this morning, how Chaewon has yet to reply to her text asking if they could go grocery shopping that night. Her head’s spinning slightly and there’s nothing but ringing in her ears. 

She speeds outside the campus, hails a taxi because damn her if she’s going to wait for a bus. 

She arrives an agonising ten minutes later, rushing to the concierge while trying to fish out her university ID and rolling up her sleeve. 

“Kim Chaewon. Please?”

The concierge nods and types away, and Minju is aware of how she’s breathing too hard, of how the unoccupied concierges are eyeing her with concern, of the sterile scent of antiseptic everywhere. 

Her identity and bond to Chaewon verified, she’s finally told, “Two-oh-six.”

“Thanks,” she exhales, and takes off. 

The trip to Chaewon’s room is mercifully short, and the heavy door swings open to reveal her, sound asleep. 

There’s machines and tubes and beeps everywhere. She’s being given oxygen and—whatever they’re feeding into her IV. She looks so small in her bed, her wispy hair and frail arms. 

But otherwise, she’s whole and safe.

Minju deflates in relief. She sets herself down on the chair by the window, feeling like she’s finally let out a breath she’d been holding. Her eyes are trained on Chaewon, Minju unable to look away. As if any moment her body’ll just shrink even further and then dissipate into air. 

A knock and then the door opening to reveal a doctor—Chaewon’s, probably. “Kim Minju-ssi? I was informed you had arrived.”

Minju stands and bows. “Hello, seonsaengnim.”

She waves and gestures for Minju to sit. “Please.”

Minju obliges, watches as she takes note of Chaewon’s vitals, fiddling with her tubes, checking the charts she has on hand. 

“Well, you probably know why she’s here,” she tells Minju.

“I—yeah.” Minju licks her lips. “She hasn’t been eating or sleeping well.”

The doctor hums. “She fainted, but that’s about the worst of it. She’ll be good as new after lots of rest and a diet we’ll put her on—we’ll hand it to you soon.” She turns to face Minju and smiles. “She’ll be fine.”

“Okay. Okay,” Minju exhales, bowing slightly. “Thank you, seonsaengnim.”

“We’ll keep her until Friday for observation. After that, you’ll probably have to make sure she does what we recommend.”

“Of course.”

“Alright.”

The doctor moves to leave, and Minju stands up to bow again with a final, “Thank you, seonsaengnim.”

  
  
  


Midway into her Intro to Psychology reading for the week, Minju hears it. 

Quiet, hoarse, whispered. “Ju?”

Minju’s head whips up. There’s Chaewon, head turned, brows furrowed. But her eyes are open, her arm moves to her side, and— _she’s awake._

“Chaewon,” Minju exhales, moving toward her. She can’t help herself—cradles Chaewon’s face, brushing her hair. “I was so worried.”

Chaewon scrunches her nose. She latches onto Minju’s wrist, on her name written there. “You shouldn’t have been.”

“Well, I was,” Minju retorts. “I’ve been worried for a while, and you didn’t listen—now look where it got you.”

Chaewon scoffs and rolls her eyes. It’s weaker, slower than her usual. Minju can’t help but notice. “Your nagging is going to get _so bad_ from now on.”

Minju laughs, a little shaky, a little wet. 

And honestly—she could do it. Her hands around Chaewon’s face. Just pull her close enough for their lips to meet. Minju has a need to tug Chaewon as close as she can, feel how okay she is, show her how happy that she’s still Chaewon. Her Chaewon. 

But Chaewon’s slight smile is enough, and Minju swallows it all down, like she usually does. 

“It will,” she tells her. “It really will.”

  
  
  
  


**04.**

They still have their Thursday lunches. 

They go to different universities, now, and their schedules don’t always match up, but they always try to get good Thursdays when they sign up for classes before the semester starts. One semester it had to be Thursday brunches, because they were only both free at 10. Another was Thursday … pre-dinners? At 4. 

But they get graced with luck this semester, a reasonable 12:30 meeting time. 

Today was a resto-café-bakery overlooking the park. It’s a bit more expensive, more high-end than usual, but only because today was—

“Got you something,” Chaewon murmurs over her glass. She uses her foot to push a box on the floor toward Minju. 

“You did?” 

Chaewon nods. “Open it.”

Minju picks it up and peels the wrapping paper off as gingerly as she can. When she finally catches sight of the label on the box, she lets out a quiet, “ _Oh._ ” Chaewon laughs and Minju sets the wrapping paper aside. 

It’s a camera. A film one—one she had eyes on, but different from what she wanted to buy herself, only because this one that Chaewon gave her was just outside her budget. 

“Oh, you—” Minju looks at her. “You didn’t have to.”

“‘Course I did,” Chaewon replies. Smiles and Minju just thinks she’s so pretty. “Happy birthday, Minju-yah.”

A heat crawls from the top of her back to the crown of her head. “Thanks.”

Minju lifts all the tabs, opens the box as carefully as she can. The camera was packed nicely by whichever seller Chaewon bought it from, and even came with a note. _I had so much fun with this one_ , it says, _hope it captures just as many memories with you_. 

“I can’t believe all the cameras you were interested in are only available as used,” Chaewon says from across the table. 

Minju laughs. “Well, they’re film cameras, after all.” She shrugs. “Not really a modern medium.”

It’s heavier than she thought, Minju thinks as she holds it in her hands. “How did you know?” she asks Chaewon. 

Chaewon smirks. “Never underestimate the power of the soulbond, Minju-yah.”

“Chaewon.”

“Okay, fine.” Chaewon rolls her eyes. “The ads were _everywhere_ when I borrowed your iPad that one time. You must have been looking for so long.”

A blush heats Minju’s face again, but for a different reason, now. 

  
  
  


Later, when they’ve finished their sandwiches and pasta and are on their last sips of their iced tea, Chaewon says, “We’re going out tonight, by the way. With Eunbi unnie and Yena unnie.”

Minju’s brows raise. “We are?”

“It’s your birthday,” Chaewon tells her, “we should celebrate.”

Minju scrunches her nose. She’s not too big on loud and dark and hazy, but she’s also been so swamped that going home to her desk and her to-do list is just as daunting. Maybe even more so. 

And this was Chaewon. Chaewon wouldn’t have planned something Minju wouldn’t enjoy—she knows Minju well enough, by now. Too well. Knows Minju better than anyone in the world.

Minju sighs. “Alright,” she tells Chaewon. “Alright.”

  
  
  


As usual, Chaewon proves to be right. 

It’s just the _right_ amount of loud and dark and hazy. Enough to make Minju forget what she has to get back to, but not enough to make her uncomfortable. Someone must have told the bar that it was Minju’s birthday, because they’ve been getting more drinks than they ordered, and Minju starts to feel it, everything getting a little slower and fuzzier. 

There’s not a lot of people, and the four of them can catch up and tell jokes without having to scream at the top of their lungs, and it’s nice. 

“Let’s take a picture,” Eunbi urges, phone already hoisted up in position.

They all pose, but the moment Chaewon sees what she looks like on Eunbi’s phone screen, she grimaces. “Ugh, ew, I’ve gotten all gross. Can I redo my makeup first?”

Yena mumbles an _Oh, God,_ but Eunbi just waves Chaewon away. “Go, go.”

“I’ll be just a minute!” Chaewon turns and tilts her head at Minju. “Ju? Come with me?”

“I—you sure?” Minju asks, already feeling her throat closing up at the thought.

“Yeah,” Chaewon exhales. “Please?”

Minju follows wordlessly into a dark corner of the club, opens the door to a bathroom lit only in red and purple neon. It’s just her and Chaewon, and Chaewon has to use her phone’s flashlight to get a more accurate idea of how to do her makeup.

Minju puts her hands against the sink counter and _leans_ on them just so she doesn’t do something she’ll regret. Alcohol makes her brave, and _stupid_ , two things she can’t afford to be right now.

“All done,” Chaewon says, after a few minutes. Turns to face Minju. “How do I look?”

“Ah—you look—” Minju lifts her head, feels a soreness at the base of her skull. Realises that she’s been looking at her feet the entire time.

Minju’s a little lightheaded and she’s alone with Chaewon and Chaewon is so _pretty_ , her dark eyeshadow and red lipstick and sequin top. She wishes she had her camera with her. It’s almost too _good_ of a scene, the lighting and the hipster-y wall decor and the pretty girl. “You look fine.”

But Minju notices, a smudge just above Chaewon’s left lip, and before she can stop herself she says, “Ah, just a little bit here—” and reaches out to wipe it off. 

Minju places her thumb on Chaewon’s skin Chaewon hiccups and her eyes flutter closed and she exhales, hot, into Minju’s hand and _fuck._

She’s so used to stifling her feelings that when they crawl back up again like this it feels like a train is speeding right into her exhausted chest. The music plays muted through the walls and the bass buzzes the floors and everything is in dark red and there’s _Chaewon_ , personification of Minju’s want. It’s romantic and needy and _God_ , Minju wants to kiss Chaewon _so badly._

The drinks make all her self-imposed inhibitions all the more fragile. Her blood runs hot and she’s aware of everything—Chaewon’s breaths, her hair sticking to her damp skin, _to choose_ and _headwaters_ peeking from the sleeve of Minju’s jacket, _veins of jade_ and _thorough_ through Chaewon’s top. The fact that Chaewon is moving _closer to her_ , too, and they can’t do this, they’re both _drunk_ and this’ll ruin everything—

The door flies open, and there’s three women Minju and Chaewon have never met, stumbling inside. The cool air breaks through the humidity that’s settled around them, defogs the mirrors. 

Minju snaps out of it. 

“Come on,” Minju says, dropping her hand from Chaewon’s face to grab her arm. “They’re waiting for us.”

  
  


**05.**

“Chae.”

“Mm?”

“What you’ve been waiting for,” Minju says. “It’s finally here.”

Chaewon gasps and turns to Minju, eyes wide in surprise. She doesn’t need to ask, already knows—that’s the thing, about the bond. Time goes on and words are needed less. “I was right?”

“Sure were.” Minju turns her hand to show Chaewon her phone screen. “Says so, right here.”

“Really?” Chaewon asks, moves closer to Minju and holds Minju’s arm still so she can get a look. Runs her thumb over Minju’s soulmark. Then looks up at Minju, asks, “You’ll come with me?”

“I—” Minju swallows and tries to ignore the _burning_ she feels. “Of course. It’s not like you can avail it if I’m not there.”

“True.” Chaewon grins and lets go. “Still, though. Means a lot.”

All Minju can do is smile and turn her phone back to herself. “I’ll buy them now.”

Chaewon squeals. “Thanks, Ju!” 

Minju’s going through the checkout process when Chaewon’s voice comes, from the bathroom door, “Love you!”

Minju _just_ barely keeps her phone in her hands. 

  
  


The trip to Everland is _exhausting._

It takes two and a half hours, three buses. One to Seoul, the next to Yongin, then to Everland itself. 

They arrive just a little past noon. 

Chaewon’s been wanting to go for probably three years now, and because ticket prices are so season-dependent she’s always gunned for the half-off they have for soulmate pairs on Valentine’s Day. They finally get their schedules freed _and_ are able to buy before Everland closes the promotion. 

Though, Minju’s not going to lie—she’s a bit daunted by the notion. 

There are going to be couples _everywhere_ , holding hands and kissing in corners and taking cheesy pictures. And Minju doesn’t like the taste that’ll leave in her mouth, how out of place she’ll feel, the sourness of her mood tinged by ugly, ugly envy. 

But this is Chaewon’s day, not hers, so she’ll have to do what she always does—grin and bear it. 

  
  


“Where next?” Chaewon asks, munching on her tteokbokki. 

Chaewon wanted to try _everything._ The rides and the games and the exhibits and the food. They go on every stomach-spinning ride, a safari tour that left Minju both horrified and amazed, and Chaewon insists on buying every corny soulmate-matching pair of accessories they find. Animal ears and keychains and phone cases. 

Her appetite seems endless, too. They’ve been to at least two restaurants now ( _Ugh, why are amusement park meals always so bad?_ ), three stops for ice cream ( _Chaewon-ah, it’s the middle of winter!_ ), and of course, churros. Chaewon devours three in just as many minutes. 

Minju also gets designated to photographer of four cameras—Chaewon’s phone, her own (when Chaewon wants to pose with hers), Chaewon’s polaroid, and Minju’s film one. 

At Chaewon’s question, Minju shrugs. “I’m beat, Chae. Do you have any ideas?”

Minju’s feet have been aching for probably the last half hour. She knew Everland was _huge_ , but not like this. 

“I mean, we could always—oh, Ju, what time is it?” Chaewon asks.

“Uh.” Minju checks her phone. “Almost five.”

“Oh, no.” Chaewon’s face falls. She stops in her tracks and holds onto Minju’s wrist, tugs gently. “The lights parade is about to start.”

Minju feels all the energy leave her body in a quiet _whoosh._ “Chaewon, the lights parade is—” Minju checks her guide map, “—on the other side of the park.”

“There are cable cars for that _exact reason_ ,” Chaewon whines. “Please?”

And as much as Minju wants to collapse on the nearest bench, tell Chaewon to go ahead and she’ll follow in a few minutes, she feels it would be _criminal_ for anyone to refuse Chaewon when she’s looking at you like _that_. Buried in her bubble jacket and her scarf, her beanie hanging low on her face, her nose red from the cold. Her bottom lip puffy and stuck out in a pout.

“Fine,” Minju relents and Chaewon claps her hands and grins. 

  
  


The sun sets and snow falls. 

Their places to view the parade aren’t the most ideal—tiptoeing here, craning necks there. There’s a lot of pushing and jostling for position, so—

A massive force _plows_ through Minju, driving her off-balance and falling to her left. Minju looks and sees that the culprit’s actually a couple, still elbowing their way through the crowd, shameless. 

“You okay?” Chaewon’s voice comes. 

“Oh, shit—sorry, yeah.” Minju adjusts herself and tries to get back upright. Chaewon must have been getting uncomfortably squished. “Yeah, I’m—”

Minju turns to face Chaewon and wonders why this feeling always strikes her in the most inconvenient moments. 

But Chaewon’s so _pretty._ Her exhausted, fulfilled face. Snowflakes melting on her cheeks and her lashes. Her face tinged red, her lips glossy from her applying balm the whole afternoon to keep them from drying. The sun sets behind her, sky in bold strokes of orange and purple, and they reflect in Chaewon’s eyes, too—pools of colour. 

Her palm itches. She wants to reach out, maybe, or take a photo— _something._

It’s okay, though. The feeling used to burn Minju, but tonight it’s settled into a low simmering in her stomach. Maybe it’s Minju’s exhaustion or the sweetness of winter, but she’s content with this, Chaewon by her side keeping her just a little warmer. 

“I’m okay,” she tells Chaewon. “I’m totally okay.”

  
  


**+01.**

They get home a little past ten. 

Minju collapses on their couch, unglamorous and haphazard. She dumps their bags of souvenirs on the floor in front of her, and Chaewon only chuckles in response. 

“Thanks for tolerating me,” Chaewon tells her, fixing their things. “Go get some sleep, now.”

“Always,” Minju mumbles, then throws her arms over her eyes and groans. “Though I think our neighbors have something to say about that.”

Bass and drums bleed through their walls. A voice sings faintly. It appears their friends next door have decided to blast music as loud as possible, and if it’s this time of night—

Ugh. Minju doesn’t even want to _think_ about it. 

Luckily her metabolism seems to understand her need for a distraction. A few seconds later, her stomach _growls._

Loud enough for Chaewon to hear, too. “I told you to eat in Everland!” she scolds. 

“I wasn’t hungry then,” Minju replies. 

Chaewon sighs and Minju knows she’s rolling her eyes, too. “I’ll make us dinner,” her voice comes. 

“You’re hungry, too?”

“The trip back tired me out. It canceled all my food—PEMDAS.”

Minju snorts. 

  
  


Sometime during Chaewon’s cooking, their neighbours’ song changes to something Minju vaguely recognises. For some reason, a doom settles in her chest, and she can’t put a finger on why, not until—

Chaewon gasps. “Ju!”

“What?”

“Dance with me!”

Minju sits up and narrows her eyes at Chaewon. She’s completely abandoned the stove, having moved closer to Minju. 

“ _What?_ ”

“This was our prom song!” she exclaims, excited for reasons Minju can’t understand. “Dance with me!”

Oh. _That’s_ what the panic was for. “Chaewon, I’m—the food—”

“Oh, it’ll just be a minute,” she says. “Please? My last spoiled soulmate request of the day, promise.”

Minju doesn’t know whether she hates or likes the fact that she’d do anything for Chaewon. She rolls her eyes and stands up, aching legs complaining all the way. She makes her way toward Chaewon, takes her waist in one hand and Chaewon’s hand in the other; they start waltzing in place, small, slow steps. 

Chaewon starts humming along, her too pretty voice, and Minju feels her heart jump. She looks at Chaewon and— _Christ._

She should stop getting this close to Chaewon if this keeps happening. She remembers that the first time she felt like wanting to kiss Chaewon was when they were doing exactly this. Feels like yesterday and lifetimes ago at once. There’s stains on Chaewon’s face and she’s a bit sweaty and she’s very obviously tired but she’s almost unbelievably beautiful all the same. 

Chaewon smiles. Almost as if she’s comfortable with Minju seeing her like this, barefaced in a corny apron. In the home they built. They share. 

_To choose_ and _headwaters_. The girl Minju’s meant to love. The girl she does. 

And then Chaewon’s eyes flicker to Minju’s _lips_ and then she lets out a shaky exhale and—that _couldn’t_ have happened, Minju’s exhaustion is driving her _crazy_ , she’s seeing things—

Minju seizes her movement and she starts to pull away from Chaewon. 

But then Chaewon tightens her hold on Minju’s hand and she whispers, “Minju.”

Minju stills. “Yeah?”

Chaewon looks up at her. “Kiss me.”

The air in her lungs gets lodged somewhere and she can barely _breathe._ She—she can’t have heard that right. 

“What?” Minju chokes out, just barely. 

“Kiss me,” Chaewon repeats, firmer, tugging on Minju’s wrist and pulling her closer. 

And this is _too much_ , Minju can’t she can’t _she can’t._ “Chaewon—”

“Please,” Chaewon whispers, her fingernails starting to leave marks on Minju’s skin. Right at the spot where her soulmark is.

Minju doesn’t know whether she hates or likes the fact that she’d do anything for Chaewon.

Chaewon pulls Minju closer and Minju _lets_ her, closing her eyes and leaning down and— _oh._

Chaewon tastes like gochujang and her mint chocolate lip balm, and it should put Minju off but it _doesn’t._ It doesn’t, because after the initial, tentative meeting of their lips, Chaewon _lurches_ forward. Clutches at the back of Minju’s neck almost _desperately._ Kissing Minju like she means to, like she wants to. Like she’s known how Minju’s felt this entire time. Like she’s felt the same way ever since. 

_Like she’s felt the same way ever since._

That pulls Minju out of it, a tug on her navel back into reality. Chaewon _didn’t_ want this, made clear to Minju that _this_ wasn’t the plan, and, fuck—Chaewon could be doing this out of _pity_ , or—or _guilt._

Minju pushes on Chaewon’s shoulders, already longs for the feel of her lips again, but she persists against it. 

Chaewon _doesn’t._ Still has her eyes closed and lips parted, expectant and chest heaving, still inching forward toward Minju. 

Minju needs to think of _something_ — _anything_ —

“Chaewon,” Minju tells her. “The food.”

Chaewon’s eyes open. Grow wide. “Oh, _shit._ ”

  
  


They manage to salvage it. Chaewon grimaces as she watches, but Minju thinks it’s perfectly edible, if only slightly burnt. 

Her hunger is enough to distract her from—well, her _hunger._ Chaewon’s gaze on her is fever-hot, but Minju can’t. She can’t be the one to start the conversation, because if it leads to Chaewon saying _I’m sorry, that was a mistake_ , or _Maybe we should stay away from each other for a while_ , Minju won’t quite know what to do with the heartbreak that’ll entail. Isn’t looking forward to cutting her fingers picking up the pieces Chaewon will leave behind. 

The lump in her throat doesn’t swallow down with the rest of her food. 

Eventually, Chaewon finally says, “When I was in first year middle school, this guy approached me on the playground.”

Minju looks up. Sees that Chaewon’s shaking in a way that tells Minju she’s bouncing her knee. She fiddles with her fringe in the way she only does when she’s nervous, and Minju wants to lean forward and hold her, but she somehow _knows_ —soulbond, probably—that Chaewon needs to find her own strength for this. 

“He told me we were soulmates, and I—” Chaewon scoffs and looks toward the ceiling. “I believed him because I was so excited, I didn’t even look for my name on him, he pointed at my soulmark and told me it was his name and I just—”

Chaewon shakes her head. “He was twenty-three. In college.”

Minju’s stomach drops and she feels bile rise up her throat. 

Then—

White-hot rage. She feels it, her blood boiling beneath her skin, wanting to spill out of her. She grits her teeth and clamps her hand around her chopsticks, wishes she could find this man and just—

The intensity of her anger scares her. She’s never been this mad before, but _Chaewon—_

“Did that fucking _bastard_ —” Minju spits. “I swear, Chaewon, tell me if he so much laid a fucking _hand_ on you—”

“He—he didn’t, Ju, promise,” Chaewon says, laying her hand on the table in an attempt to placate. “H-he wasn’t like that, he didn’t want _that_. Told me after a week or so that he was lying the whole time.”

Minju still _shakes._ Still wonders what could have happened in those seven days. 

_Fuck._

“It took me a while to understand, but I did, eventually,” Chaewon continues, and Minju sees how her eyes are shining with tears. “He wanted—to feel _wanted_ , I don’t know, he was markless and liked a marked girl and I guess his fucked up way of dealing with that was to find kids to give him attention and then toss them aside when he got tired.”

Plural. Minju is legitimately terrified of what she’ll do if she ever meets this man. 

“And then _you_ came along— _way_ earlier than I wanted you to,” Chaewon says. “And I got _spooked_. I saw how—how excited you were to meet me, and you reminded me of _me_ , and I got scared.”

Chaewon that day is still so clear in Minju’s head, her constant reminder, the cork in the bottleneck of her feelings that always threaten to spill. But she never would have thought that Chaewon rejected the bond, hated soulmates because—because of _this._

“We don’t—” Minju swallows. Tries to stomach the fact that Chaewon _kissed_ her despite this, is scared that she somehow guilted Chaewon into doing something she didn’t want to. “Chaewon, we don’t have to do _anything_.”

Chaewon’s tears fall in earnest. Streaming down her cheek and splattering on the table. “ _God_ , Minju, that’s the thing.” She laughs. “You’re kind of like, _stupidly_ perfect and you don’t even realise it.”

Minju furrows her brows. Chaewon only shakes her head and bites her lip. 

“You’re so _patient_ ,” Chaewon says. “You never—you never asked me to do _anything._ Just—you stayed back because I wanted you to and you _never_ said a word.”

“I—” Minju blinks. “Of course I would.”

Chaewon rolls her eyes. “See? Doing what feels comfortable for _me_ is natural to you. I kept on wondering how you always just _knew_ , and that was probably just what soulmates are, right? What they _really_ are. You’ve had feelings for me for as long as I’ve known you and you just—kept them down. You remind me to eat and sleep and take care of myself. But even when I got sick you gave me space, didn’t hound over me, just made sure I was getting my medicines on time. And _God_ , Ju, the way you look at me, sometimes. You make me feel like—like I’m _beautiful_ , even when all I did was string you along for years.”

Minju frowns. “You didn’t _string me along_ , Kim Chaewon,” she tells her. “You didn’t play with my feelings or give me false hope—you know, it’s unfair you think about yourself like that. You don’t owe me anything.”

Chaewon laughs again and wipes her tears. “Just told you,” she says. “ _Stupidly_ perfect.”

“You are, too,” Minju says. “You’re the only person who knows how to get me out of my own head. During prom, when I freaked out because of the people—when you took me out for my birthday because you know I was letting my work drown me. You’re not scared of being honest with me—never have been. You pay enough attention to me to _care_ , even if you wanted _nothing_ to do with the soulbond. You knew I had feelings for you and let me be around you, anyway—I can’t think of anyone else who would do that, if they went through what you did. _I_ wouldn’t.”

“I—” Chaewon frowns. “I don’t—it just seemed like the right thing to do.”

“See?” Minju shrugs. “Just what you said. You doing what was nice for me came natural to you, too.”

And then Minju sees it, the realisation dawning on Chaewon’s face, how she accommodated Minju just as much as Minju did her. 

“And for the record, I look at you like you’re beautiful because you are,” Minju tells her. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, honestly.”

Chaewon snorts. “Oh, please. You’re not so bad yourself, Miss ‘I-get-streetcast-offers-every-month’.”

“Oh, that’s a lie.”

Chaewon’s eyes narrow. 

Minju holds up her fingers in a _V._ “It’s every _two_ months, at most.”

Chaewon laughs and, _ah, there it is_ , Minju thinks. Finally hears that sweet sound she’s been chasing. She couldn’t bear to see Chaewon’s sad, crumpled face any longer.

And then Chaewon gets up from her seat and takes Minju’s face in her hands and—Minju wonders if the wound isn’t still too raw? If this isn’t too soon?

“Chaewon, I meant what I said,” Minju whispers. “We don’t have to do anything.”

“If we don’t, _he_ wins,” Chaewon says, eyes flashing. “He’s not ruining this. I want you _way_ more than I wanted him—I want you more than I want anyone. You’re my soulmate.”

Minju’s heart jumps again. They’re still vulnerable—there’s still a lot to be done—but, _oh,_ if it all doesn’t just disappear when Chaewon steals a shy glance at Minju’s lips. At how Chaewon’s words will ring in Minju’s ears forever. 

“That I am,” Minju sighs, closing her eyes and kissing Chaewon again. 

  
  


The next morning, Minju makes breakfast. 

Only because she woke up first and figured she’d be jumping out of her skin waiting for Chaewon to, too. There’s still so much to unpack—but _God_ , Chaewon wants her. Kissed Minju and called her perfect and thinks she’s pretty.

Minju has to bite her lip to keep herself from breaking out into a smile. 

She would have been fine just in Chaewon’s company, but to finally not have to burn up whenever they’re too close, or feel like she’s doing something wrong when Minju looks at Chaewon and thinks she’s beautiful—for those feelings to be welcome, _reciprocated._

Minju hums, setting the food onto plates and getting started with the coffee. Tries her best to not think about how Chaewon’s eyes flutter closed, and fails anyway. 

She manages to settle herself and take a few sips of her coffee. She busies herself on her phone, finds as many distractions as she can. 

Until she hears a voice say, “Hi.”

Minju looks up. Finds Chaewon leaning against a doorjamb, shy smile on her face. 

“Hello,” Minju says, her stomach swooping. “I made breakfast.”

“You did.” Chaewon grins and walks toward the table. 

But instead of Chaewon taking her place at her seat, she settles into Minju’s lap instead, straddling her. She pushes Minju’s phone away and crosses her wrists behind Minju’s head. Chaewon leans in, nudges their noses together first before meeting Minju’s lips in a kiss. 

And it’s so different, now, Chaewon kissing her in morning glow. No shadows looming over them. Minju doesn’t feel scared and Chaewon hadn’t just unloaded something heavy. It’s just Minju kissing the girl she likes and it’s so _nice._

Minju’s suddenly thankful she only had a few sips of coffee because Chaewon seems to want things to grow more heated, and a whimper escapes Minju’s mouth when Chaewon presses harder into her. 

Chaewon pulls away at that, though. Lips swollen and cheeks flushed. She grins at Minju. 

“Really, Kim Minju,” she says. Tucks Minju’s hair behind her ear. “If I’d known I could have you like this I would have done something sooner.”

“Dummy.” Minju presses the tip of Chaewon’s nose. Moves to thumb over Chaewon’s soulmark. “You’ve always had me.”

Chaewon snorts but Minju sees the blush on her face get deeper. She buries her head in Minju’s shoulder and Minju adjusts for her. Rubs her hands on Chaewon’s back, slow. 

Realises that she could hold Chaewon forever, so she says:

“You’ll always have me.”

**Author's Note:**

> the passages about prices in yeonsu-gu being extortionate and everland being freakishly huge and tiring were projections on my part... it’s also why this fic is set in incheon lol it’s the only area in korea i’m more than vaguely familiar with as i’m there quite often hhh
> 
> thank you for reading! if you liked this, feel free to drop by my [twitter](http://twitter.com/mediumcoelis). i’m also on [curiouscat](http://curiouscat.me/pisceshorizon) ♡


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